


The Edge

by Sith Rebel (JamieCOTC)



Category: Mass Effect, Mass Effect - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, BDSM, Dom/sub, F/F, Inspired by Roleplay/Roleplay Adaptation, Major Original Character(s), Original Character(s), Porn With Plot, Post-Mass Effect 3, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:54:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24172402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamieCOTC/pseuds/Sith%20Rebel
Summary: A hundred years after Commander Shepard defeated the Reapers, the Leviathans emerged from their darkness to conquer the galaxy. Aided by Cerberus, they nearly succeeded. The fight was long and arduous, but a small black ops team, with help from the Shadow Broker herself, defeated the Leviathans.After the war, Charlotte Fawkes and Rey Ford struggled to find a life despite the war that raged within them. This is not a story of glory, but of the inner war two women fought to save each other.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Female Character
Comments: 6
Kudos: 6





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [A_Ravens_Flight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Ravens_Flight/gifts).



> The following story began as a Mass Effect roleplay that lasted nearly five years before it abruptly ended without conclusion. Charlotte, created by myself and Rey, brought to life by A_Raven's_Flight became so beloved to us both that we couldn’t let them die. Instead of finishing the roleplay story, I decided to concentrate on the lives of these woman after the war and how they adapted to peacetime. As this story was inspired by a roleplay, some characters were created by authors other than myself. 
> 
> While I've been involved in Mass Effect roleplay for nearly ten years and have a few short pieces under my belt, this is the first multipart fanfic I've written. 
> 
> Finally, this story can be categorized as ME smut or porn with a plot, however, the good stuff doesn't start until chapter three. Hope you enjoy. 
> 
> \--
> 
> Rey Ford and Alex Knight created by A_Ravens_Flight  
> Tiffany Skye Wu created by Catherine Lamanque

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hundred years after Commander Shepard defeated the Reapers, the Leviathans emerged from their darkness to conquer the galaxy. Aided by Cerberus, they nearly succeeded. A small black ops team, with help from the Shadow Broker herself, wage their own war against the Leviathans. Two vital members of the team are taken by Cerberus and one woman must deal with her worst fear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The following story began as a Mass Effect roleplay that lasted nearly five years before it abruptly ended without conclusion. Charlotte, created by myself and Rey, brought to life by A_Raven's_Flight became so beloved to us both that we couldn’t let them die. Instead of finishing the roleplay story, I decided to concentrate on the lives of these woman after the war and how they adapted to peacetime. As this story was inspired by a roleplay, some characters were created by authors other than myself.
> 
> While I've been involved in Mass Effect roleplay for nearly ten years and have a few short pieces under my belt, this is the first multipart fanfic I've written.
> 
> Finally, this story can be categorized as ME smut or porn with a plot, however, the good stuff doesn't start until chapter three. Hope you enjoy.
> 
> \--
> 
> Rey Ford and Alex Knight created by A_Ravens_Flight  
> Tiffany Skye Wu created by Catherine Lamanque

# The Edge

  


### Prologue

War with the Leviathans was about to come to a head. The squid would reach earth in a few weeks. They had to; they were desperate. A black ops team had the means to beat indoctrination and defeat the apex predators. Two women, a former Omega rat and an aristocrat turned Alliance scientist were the key. The Leviathans demanded their deaths.

\--

_Argos Rho / Gorgon System / Cerberus cruiser_

“Charlotte?”

A familiar voice eased Dr. Fawkes out of her stupor. Where was she? What happened? The voice called her name once more.

“Charlotte? I need you to wake up.”

Fawkes opened her eyes. Vision blurry at first, she couldn’t quite guess the voice, but it was familiar. Before her was the figure of a tall man, though his face was a hazy blank.

“Charlotte. It’s Uncle Aldus. You have to wake up.”

Of course, Uncle Aldus. The name sparked her memory back to life. Laid unconscious by a gas or toxin at her aunt’s funeral, Charlotte's last memory was meeting her uncle and how Rey reacted to the very sight of him. Charlotte’s wife rarely froze, but at the sight of Aldus Audley, a look of white terror crossed her face. It was him. Director of Cerberus. All the pain Rey had endured, weeks of torture, her left arm gone, an AI implanted in her brain, he was the catalyst.

“You son of a bitch!” she screamed. “Where’s Rey? What have you done with my wife?”

The scientist quickly examined her surroundings. She was bound to a simple white chair. The collar around her neck was tight, but she was still able to breathe without concern. No longer in the dress she wore to her aunt’s funeral, she was fitted with a white t-shirt and white pants. The room was white, and the lighting allowed no shadows. Charlotte had heard of white torture. A form of sensory deprivation, it was supposedly the worst form of torture known.

“Aegis! Where are you! Aegis? Athena! Answer me!”

Audley chuckled. “Rey’s AI has been disconnected. Both he and Athena were built on Cerberus tech. You did a good job on the upgrades, but we always had a way. We just needed you close enough.”

Out of instinct Fawkes attempted to use her biotics. Her body radiated with the familiar tingle for an instant then, nothing. Instead of freeing herself, her biotics fizzled. Momentarily drained of energy she slumped in the chair as far as her bonds would allow.

“If you are finished,” said Audley, “We need to quickly come to an understanding.”

“You killed Henrietta,” seethed Charlotte. “She was your sister. My aunt!” Her strength returning, Fawkes pulled at her restraints, desperate for freedom, but without her biotics, she was helpless.

“Regrettable, but I had to flush you out somehow. With your own ship, you could be anywhere in the galaxy.” Audley paused as a modicum of pride swelled inside him, if only for a moment. “Congratulations on your captaincy, by the way.”

Charlotte lunged. Her face red from rage, she stared at her uncle, driving darts of hate into his eyes. “Fuck you! Where. Is. My. Wife?

“Your wife …” A veil of regret touched his eyes for a moment, but Audley pushed it aside. “Rey is a strong woman, sometimes too strong.” Aldus reached into his pocket and retrieved a pair of earbuds. Though she protested, he placed one in each of Charlotte’s ears. He then tapped his omntool, sending out an order. A second later, Fawkes heard her wife’s screams.

Charlotte sunk into the chair; eyes closed, she thrashed back and forth. “I will kill you,” she growled while hot tears trickled down her face. Audley tapped his omnitool again. Rey’s screaming stopped. Charlotte shot a look at her uncle. “Where is she?”

“Still screaming,” the director replied.

Fawkes started to issue another worthless threat when Audley waved her off. “Join us and her pain will end.”

“Join Cerberus? The Leviathans? Are you mad?”

Audley turned for the door and Rey’s screaming began anew. “I’ll be back in an hour,” he said coldly. “I hope for Rey’s sake and yours, you will change your mind.”

* * *

Charlotte’s existence consisted solely of her wife’s pain. The continuous screams stopped long ago, replaced by ragged breathing, sobs and the occasional threat or growl. Not a second of the hour was filled with anything by Rey’s suffering. What they were doing to her, Charlotte could only guess and that was the worst of it. As for Fawkes herself, her face burned with the salt of her tears, bloody fingers clenched around the arm of the plain white chair. Her mind, continually assaulted by her wife’s agony.

The door opened and Rey’s agony stopped. Aldus entered and closed the door softly. He stepped toward his niece.

“Rey is on reprieve for the moment. I’ll ask you again, please …” Audley held out his hand. “Join me. Join me and the universe will be open to you. As a scientist, that must tempt you at least a little.”

Charlotte sucked in a wad of saliva and spat in his face.

Aldus pulled out a handkerchief to wipe off the spit. He grimaced. “I never wanted to hurt you or Rey.”

“But you did!” Fawkes screeched.

“They’re scared of you … you and your wife, her especially.”

“I know,” murmured Fawkes.

“Join me, Charlotte, please!” Aldus begged.

“Join us, Uncle. We can defeat them.” Charlotte noted the desperation in his voice. There was something left of the man she once knew inside the monster confronting her.

“We never did see eye to eye, did we?” Another crack of regret seeped through his facade. Aldus wiped his eyes with the handkerchief. He turned for the door.

“Uncle!” Charlotte’s eyes burned with anger and now, sadness. “Why?”

“I’m sure I had some noble reason at one time, but now … does it matter?” The Director opened the door to leave, his face turned to stone. “I’m indoctrinated, and I can’t let you stop them.”

“I’ll ask again in 24 hours.”

* * *

_17 hours later._

Rey’s screams returned only occasionally, signifying increased levels of trauma. Ragged breathing, sobs, whimpering, spliced with sporadic silence accosted Charlotte’s will. Worse was not knowing what Cerberus or the Leviathans were doing to her. It could be a trick. Rey could be dead or safe. Fawkes didn’t know.

“Rey! Rey you’ve got to fight until help arrives. I know they’ll come. Sian, Alex, Tiffany … Kane. I know they will come.”

Fawkes swallowed hard. She was scared. Rey hadn’t made a sound in over a minute. The scientist eyed the room, all white. It was like she was nowhere that existed, moving continuously, yet still and silent at the same time.

A minute and a half. There was no sound from Rey. Charlotte's heart beat faster. She had to do something. Stall, maybe.

“You win!” she yelled. “You win! I’ll … join you.”

Charlotte hung her head. It was only a stall, she said to herself. The lock on the door clicked and her uncle entered. He stood five feet from his niece, hands tucked in his pockets, his tie undone.

“I want to see Rey. Now.” Charlotte’s tired gaze met the man she once called uncle. He looked down at his shoes. They were no longer altered as he tapped them absentmindedly on the floor.

“You’ll be allowed to say goodbye.”

“Goodbye? What --” Fawkes struggled at her bonds again, hoping in vain to free herself. She imagined her hands around her uncle’s throat, squeezing tighter and tighter.

“I’m sorry, Charlotte. Rey can’t live, but I’ll make sure her end is painless.”

Charlotte glared at her uncle, her body trembling with rage. “When I get out of here I will tear you apart.”

Aldus opened his omnitool. “Kill her on my signal.”

Charlotte thrashed in her seat; her arms twisted in the bonds until her wrists were raw. “I will fucking kill you!”

Aldus pulled a pistol from his suit pocket. He took aim for his niece’s forehead. He swallowed, hard.

“I’m sorry, Charlotte.”

Fawkes spat in his face again. She stared him in the eye, a fat glob of spit slogged down his cheek.

“Alert. Alert”

“What the devil?”

A mechanized voice screamed through the coms. “Unknown vessel approaching from the starboard. It is powering weapons.”

“Evasive maneuvers! Ready weapons!” ordered the director.

The Barbarossa, a giant of a ship even among dreadnaughts, veered to port, it’s weapons and shields at the ready.

He aimed at Charlotte once again.

She closed her eyes. A vision of Rey emerged in her mind. The dance. It was Christmas, the night she and Rey first connected. She spun around and around. Her doe eyes full of joy, Rey smiled more brightly than she ever had. Charlotte had never been happier.

An explosion rocked the lower decks. Aldus fell to the floor, his gun slid to the other side of the room. The massive ship spun in. Another hit from the mysterious vessel took out the weapons array. Another hit. The shields buckled.

“Fire all weapons!” shouted Audley.

“Weapons array offline. Mass effect core offline, starboard shields gone.” Aldus saw his mission fizzle as the computer tallied the Barbarossa’s damage. It gave him a glimmer of satisfaction, though he was still under their control.

“We are being hailed,” announced the computer.

“This is the Shadow Broker.” A low garbled voice slithered over the ship’s coms. “You are being boarded. Please cooperate and you will not be harmed. Any hostility will be met with overwhelming force.”

Audley sat on the floor, staring at the gun a mere five feet away. Blood tailed down from a wound on his forehead to his chin. In the distance, he heard multiple breech explosions. Then gunfire erupted.

“You won’t win,” he finally muttered.

Wheezing, Aldus staggered to his feet. “They are not the Reapers, Charlotte. They are not controlled by some myopic AI. The Leviathans’ only concern is conquest.”

For a third time, the director aimed a gun at his niece.

“They are pure in their intent. That’s why they will win.”

**BAM!**

Aldus shuffled toward Fawkes. His hands grabbed her throat. Another shot rang out. Charlotte watched her uncle slip to the floor. She lingered on his form as the life drained out of her uncle’s eyes. A short woman dressed in Alliance armor, gun still trained, entered the all white room.

“You little bitch, you took him from me,” snarled Fawkes.

“Hey, I just saved your life.” Tiffany Skye Wu hacked into the system and freed Charlotte of her restraints. “You could be a little more grateful.”

Fawkes stared at her uncle’s body. Director of Cerberus. She couldn’t believe it. How did he fool her?

“Sorry,” mumbled Fawkes. With cramps in her legs and thighs, she winced as a Wu helped her out of the chair.

“It’s fine. I get it.” Tiffany searched the woman for injuries, then applied medical to her raw wrists and ankles. Once Tiffany knew Char was fit to travel, she helped the scientist out of the room.

“Rey?”

Gunfire had erupted all over the ship. The familiar rattle and pop of battle played in the background while Tiffany looked for a clear path ahead. “Alex is with her. Rey’s alive, but she’s in bad shape. Liara’s got the best doctors in the galaxy. You know that.”

Charlotte limped along with her savior. Her arms numb and jittery, still clung to N7 hacker. “I want to see her,” Fawkes growled.

Wu found a corner out of harm’s way and propped the woman up. She could see the desperation in Charlotte’s eyes. If the situation were reversed, Tiffany would demand the same.

“Alex? Come in. Do you have Rey?” Tiff blared into her omnitool.

Sian T’Soni answered. “We’ve got her. We’re heading back to mom’s ship. Do you have Princess?”

“Yeah,” chuckled Tiff. “But she wants to see Rey.”

The asari swiveled her omnitool around toward the unconscious woman. Charlotte expected something horrific, but Rey didn’t have a scratch on her.

“I had to shoot an orb when we busted in here,” commented the asari. “Whatever they did to her, it was all in her head.”

Charlotte shut her eyes tight. Her jaw clenched. With the collar gone, her biotics had returned. Life started to pump through her body once more. She took a step away from Wu, then another step. Tiffany reached out.

“Hey, you’re still in pretty bad shape. Stick with me.”

Fawkes offered Tiffany the barest hint of a smile. Her biotics sparked.

“Let’s get the hell out of here.”


	2. A guy walks into a bar wearing a Cerberus t-shirt ...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been two years since the war with the Leviathans ended and peace was restored to the galaxy. Charlotte Fawkes and Rey Ford, part of a black ops team that helped defeat the Leviathans, are retired and live on Fehl Prime. Together they manage a bar called the Crow's Nest, but things aren't all roses, and peacetime has its own struggles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The following story began as a Mass Effect roleplay that lasted nearly five years before it abruptly ended without conclusion. Charlotte, created by myself and Rey, brought to life by A_Raven's_Flight became so beloved to us both that we couldn’t let them die. Instead of finishing the roleplay story, I decided to concentrate on the lives of these woman after the war and how they adapted to peacetime. As this story was inspired by a roleplay, some characters were created by authors other than myself.
> 
> While I've been involved in Mass Effect roleplay for nearly ten years and have a few short pieces under my belt, this is the first multipart fanfic I've written.
> 
> Finally, this story can be categorized as ME smut or porn with a plot, however, the good stuff doesn't start until chapter three. Hope you enjoy.
> 
> \--
> 
> Rey Ford created by A_Ravens_Flight

# The Edge

### Chapter One - A guy walks into a bar wearing a Cerberus t-shirt ...

“We were in a rut with the bar - y’know, get up, breakfast, fly 50 miles to work, I do the books, she makes the drinks, rinse, repeat.”

Charlotte paused and pursed her lips; her right shoulder shrugged. “Rey had a bad day.” There was another pause. Charlotte scratched her nose and looked away. “We both have bad days. The only difference is, I cry and Rey locks up, like a clam.”

Charlotte sat up straight on the couch and tugged on the tail of her blouse. She was nervous about the session, about a lot of things. Stealing a glance from a mirror on the opposite wall, she tried to spot the gray hairs found earlier in the morning. From across the room, she was still a strawberry brunette. All was right with the world.

“Did you have a fight?” asked Dr. Upton.

“Well …” Charlotte started, but trailed off. She didn’t want to open up, even though their ‘fight’ led to something wholly unexpected. “It wasn’t a fight. Rey was a clam and I could have handled it better.”

“What exactly happened, Dr. Fawkes?” asked the psychiatrist.

“Rey …” Charlotte closed her eyes. A thousand memories flooded her mind. The mousy brunette she met in the brig so long ago had transformed into a mature, vibrant woman, but not without going through hell first. “Rey has always been a very private person. She grew up on Omega and had to hide everything, including her emotions, else they would be stolen. However, the bar on Fehl Prime, got her to open up.”

“Didn’t she have friends in the Alliance, the base, your ship?” asked the Doctor.

Char slipped off her shoes and tucked her legs into a lotus position. “Now I’m comfortable,” said the brunette.

Dr. Upton chuckled. “If that’s comfortable, I’d hate to see uncomfortable.”

“I was … still am, sort of, a dancer.” Fawkes grinned at the psychiatrist. “I can almost put my heels behind my neck. Almost. I could do it when I was younger.”

Upton laughed, tapping her bare knee with a pen. She allowed an oh my god look to sit on her face for almost a minute. “That’s … I can’t even imagine the pain I would be in if I tried that.” After the two enjoyed a good laugh at themselves, Upton insisted Fawkes continue.

“Rey had friends, of course, but she didn't socialize much. Not even with me. The bar … well …” Charlotte noticed the time on the wall. Upton waved her on.

“I’m here for you today,” she added.

“Thank you,” Fawkes said politely. “It’s best I start from the beginning.”

* * *

“We can’t.”

In the kitchen, Rey Ford cut two limes, each into six millimeters slices precisely; her bionic arm whirred as she prepped the sour fruit. The lime slices, she placed into individual, small plastic bags, then added the whole into an airtight container. The container, she placed in the freezer. The two ends, she squeezed into a glass jar and placed it in the refrigerator.

“It’s just a weekend, Rey,” huffed Charlotte. “I’m tired. You’re tired. Aethyta can run the place for a weekend. Liara suggested her for a reason.”

The short brunette gingerly pushed Fawkes out of her way, and grabbed a green apple from the fridge. She washed the fruit and sliced it. Like the lime before, she placed each slice into a plastic bag. Charlotte snatched a wedge before Rey could stow it away.

“We both agreed the Crow’s Nest had to make it on its own, but it hasn’t.” Rey scowled then brushed past her wife.

Char caught Rey by the arm, but held her gently. “You know money will never be a problem for us? Right?”

Ford snatched her human arm away. “No,” she said defiantly.

Charlotte sighed heavily, annoyed by her wife’s refusal to take a break. Rey immediately caught her lover’s attitude and countered. Lightly, Ford shocked Charlotte’s breast with her bionic finger, a tiny smirk curled on Rey’s face.

“Oww …” Charlotte jumped more from being startled more than pain, but blushed as she massaged her left tit.

“You shocked my boob.”

“That may have been overdoing it,” said Aegis, Rey’s permanent AI and gave the girl a tiny shock of her own.

“Fuck!” shouted Ford. “Keep that up and I’ll rip you out of my head.”

“And we will both die,” replied the AI.

There was a moment of silence as Fawkes and Ford looked one another in the eye. Charlotte handed Rey a chilled martini glass from the fridge. “We’re both stressed out.”

“I need to open up the bar,” said Rey and the former engineer marched from the kitchen. Char threw up her arms in defeat and stormed to her office.

* * *

Fawkes took a sip of hot tea and stared at the numbers on her laptop. The Crow’s Nest was in the red again, though it was only by triple digits. The bar had its regulars and 20-hour days were not uncommon. The culprit was supplies. Living in the Terminus drove up costs, mostly for the distance and fear of raiders.

“Aegis? Pull up Raider Watch, please.”

“Affirmative,” replied the AI.

An alert popped up on the computer screen. Raider’s had been spotted near Fehl Prime and two Batarian cargo ships were shot down near Little Omega. They stole goods meant for the market, including the Nest.

“Dammit. We’ll be charged another 100% markup.”

Tea cup still in her hand, Charlotte pulled up her private bank account. Rey would have a fit if she transferred money without her input. Char tapped her finger above the enter key. We can smooth it out later, thought Fawkes. She stared at the key, one stroke away from an end to their troubles.

“Fuck.”

She closed the laptop and placed her head on the desk. The bar owed 536 credits, a small sum that could be made up in an hour or two, but markup on supplies would turn the paltry sum into thousands.

“We’re always on the edge …” muttered Charlotte, thinking out loud.

“Swan Lake will premiere on Friday at Sirta Prime’s Opera House with the original Reisinger choreography. Shall I purchase two tickets?” asked Aegis in his quest to better the lives of both women.

“Rey would be bored to tears. It would be torture.” chuckled Fawkes.

“As you wish,” responded Aegis.

For a moment, Charlotte stared off to the side, wheels spinning in her mind. A mischievous grin formed on her lips.

“No, I shouldn’t,” she giggled.

“Shouldn’t what?” asked the AI.

“I —” Fawkes reopened her laptop. “Order those tickets for Friday for a private balcony. Also, make reservations at the Osteria on the same night for Lady Charlotte Irene Fawkes and wife. Book the private room.”

“Affirmative, Dr. Fawkes.”

“Gods, she’s going to kill me,” giggled Fawkes. After another sip of tea, she began an extranet search for dresses in Rey’s size.

* * *

Like its namesake, New Omega, was a city built into a giant rock, a mountain sized rock that grew out of a titanic sized crater formed millions of years ago. The second largest city on Fehl Prime, it was more chaotic than its sister city, Sirta Prime, but offered its residents more freedom. The heart of that freedom, the market, was a melting pot of species from all across the galaxy. Partially open to the elements, the shops, bars and restaurants circled the top of New Omega. One of those bars was the Crow’s Nest, a circular outdoors bar connected to its own enclosed diner, kitchen and office. Rey was the bartender. Charlotte did the books.

Two Nest regulars were already perched at the bar when Rey walked out with a few chilled apple wedges. A Krogan, without fail, always ordered an appletini prior to lunch. The other was a human woman in her early 20s. She always took the middle seat, the one closest to Rey.

“Appletini,” grumbled the Krogan, who gave the brunette a polite nod.

“I know, Crax. One appletini coming up.”

Grabbing a Nick and Nora glass, Ford filled it with crushed ice to chill. She retrieved bottles of vodka, Calvados brandy and a jug of homemade granny smith apple juice and set each aside to measure. Grabbing the shaker, she added ice with liquor and apple juice inside. Next she grabbed a lemon, washed it and sliced it, squeezing the juice inside the shaker and shook it for 15 seconds. After Rey poured out the ice from the glass, she double strained the mixture and added an apple wedge for garnish.

“There.” Rey placed the glass on a napkin and slid it to the Krogan. The large green crested male lifted the glass to his lips and sipped. He nodded slowly in approval.

“Best appletini ever, Crow,” said Crax in his usual grouchy voice. Rey shrugged her shoulders and let out a hefty sigh before turning her attention to Naomi, a tall, African woman.

“Can you give me a wet pussy?” smirked the 22 year old hacker.

Rey rolled her eyes and shrugged, reaching for the peach schnapps.

“No snarky comeback, Crow?”

Naomi grinned mischievously, hoping to perk up the petite brunette, but the 29-year-old remained silent. “Crow” as her friends called her, wasn’t the most sociable person in Little Omega, but Naomi could usually get a rise out of her with her flirting. The Fehl Prime native had a crush on the bartender. Both were hackers and knew engines. She was the only other person Rey let touch her ship besides Charlotte. That was a distinction Naomi cherished.

“Did you and your mom have a fight?” Naomi pouted and twirled a finger around in her cinnamon colored hair. She was mocking the woman in another attempt to cheer her up.

“Shut it.”

Rey slammed the vodka and schnapps on the bar. Her teeth ground. Her jaw clenched. Both hands clenched a bottle until the vodka burst, alcohol spilling all over the bar.

“Fuck,” Rey blasted and swiped a towel from underneath the bar. Ford glared at Naomi as she cleaned up the mess. “245 credits gone. Like we need that,” Rey snarled at the woman.

“Hey, don’t blame me if you and Princess had a row.”

She could have strangled Naomi at that moment, but deep down, Ford knew the young girl was not the problem. She tossed out the broken glass and let out a heavy sigh.

“Not your fault,” muttered Rey.

“Forget it.” Naomi waved the incident off.

“So, why do you want a wet pussy when you’re always horny anyway.” Ford lightly smirked and reached for another bottle of vodka.

“There’s the Crow I know.” Naomi smiled and reared back laughing. “Only horny around you. I mean, come on, those chocolate drop doe eyes, those pouting lips, that cute nose and the hand …”

“Yeah, the hand. That’s what you want.” Rey reached out to Naomi, nearly touching the girl’s cheek. Her bionic fingers began to vibrate. “Suck it bitch, you’re not getting it.”

Naomi grabbed for Rey’s arm, but the woman snatched it away. The hacker laughed. “You are cruel, Crow.”

Rey snickered and slid the pink shot across the bar. “One wet pussy.”

The dark skinned girl downed the shot, flipped the glass over and slammed it on the bar. “So, what did happen to make you such a bitch this morning?”

“Nothing,” Rey muttered. She grabbed a clean towel and scrubbed the spot once more where vodka had split just for the distraction. Crax tapped the rim of his martini glass. Rey looked up and nodded. She started on another appletini.

Naomi threw her hands up in the air. “I give up. If you want to be a grouchy clam, be my guest.” The tall girl tapped her omnitool, sending payment to the Nest. She placed a chit on the bar as a tip and started to walk off. She stopped in midstep. Bound for the bar, was a distinguished looking gentleman who seemed to be in his mid 40s. Nice looking, Naomi thought, for an old guy, except for one thing. He was wearing Cerberus colors and logo. Unfortunately, Rey caught sight of the man before Naomi could warn her.

“Tupari and Jack, please,” said the man, looking down at his omnitool. When Rey didn’t immediately respond, the gentleman looked up to find the woman shaking in rage. He backed up, glancing around at the Krogan and Naomi.

“You might want to get that drink somewhere else,” growled the Krogan.

“Fuck off,” mouthed the man. Crax stood up to confront the human, but Rey was over the counter in seconds. Her bionic arm around his throat, the woman started to squeeze. He kicked and thrashed, but Rey held firm, her eyes wild with rage, her body trembling with pure hate.

“Princess!” yelled Naomi. She watched her friend strangle the stranger, and tried to pull her off.

Crax reached over and grabbed Rey by the shoulder. He shoved her off the man so hard, she fell into the stools lined against the bar.

Charlotte shot out of the office and immediately ran to Rey. The woman, still enraged, her fists clenched, scrambled to her feet, but Fawkes held her back.

“Rey!” she shouted.

Ford’s mind was on lock down. She saw the man screaming at her as he held his throat. She saw Naomi as she sadly shook her head. She saw Crax shove back an oncoming crowd. None of it registered.

Charlotte focused her attention on the screaming man. Then everything clicked. His shirt. Black, white and gold with the Cerberus emblem. That’s what triggered Rey. Gently, Fawkes took the woman in her arms. She held her close. “It’s okay, Love. No one’s going to hurt you. You sit down and take all the time you need. I’ll have Namoi sit with you.”

That voice. It always brought Rey back. It was her anchor, her drug; British posh with a hint of smoke and sensuality. Ford finally snapped out of just in time to hear the man call for the police.

“She tried to kill me!” he yelled, hastily tapping on his omnitool. A crowd of people gathered. Shop owners peered from their tents and out from their doors to have a look. People in a hurry to work slowed just enough to see the ruckus.

Charlotte sat Rey down and waved for Naomi. “Please, take care of her while I deal with this.” The girl took Rey’s hand in her own and squeezed it gently. Then she laid Ford’s head on her shoulder and hummed her a calm tune.

Fawkes approached the man cautiously, her hands in plane sight. “Please, sir, I am so sorry for what happened. Are you alright?”

“Hell no, I’m not alright. She tried to kill me!”

She stopped and placed her hands upon her hip, but bit her lower lip. She would have to make some kind of deal with the man to get Rey out of this and still save the Crow’s Nest.

“I am so sorry. May, I know your name, sir?” asked Fawkes.

“Terrance Harlow, and you are going to be sorry. I’ll own this dump by the weekend.” Harlow motioned to the bar and turned away once he had the authorities on his omnitool. “I need to report an assault,” he growled.

Charlotte quickly tallied her options. To let the chips fall where they may, Rey could end up with a record or possible jail time, and they would almost certainly lose the bar. She could bribe the man, pay for his medical bills and any personal trauma he had suffered. If Harlow sued, Fawkes could have him in litigation for years or she could just call Liara. The Shadow Broker would be interested in a Cerberus sympathizer. None of the options sat well with Charlotte, but she loved her wife.

There was another option. She could tell the truth, explain why Rey attacked. Harlow might sympathize, she thought, but it was a risk.

“My wife was tortured by Cerberus during the war. As was I.”

Fawkes waited for Harlow to react. She was somewhat disheveled by the confession, which caught her off guard. She folded her arms around her chest, her fingers tapped at her side.

Harlow shut down his omnitool. He spun around, finger an inch from Charlotte’s nose. His mouth opened wide to start a tirade. Fawkes stood her ground, didn’t even blink. Harlow shook his head.

“The shirt, huh?”

Charlotte nodded.

“Yeah, it gets a lot of comments.”

“I would imagine.”

“Y’know, it’s not that --”

Fawkes waved her hand. “I don’t care about your politics, but we do need to deal with this. I’ll gladly pay for any medical expenses and for any trauma this has caused you.” No longer off guard, she was a rock again, her head held high.

Harlow nodded, then looked in Rey’s direction. “Fine, just get her some help.”

“I will and thank you.”

Fawkes spun around. She let out a heavy sigh, and made her way back to Rey.

“I’ll take her from here, if you don’t mind,” said Fawkes curtly to Naomi. She gently pushed the 22-year-old aside and took Rey’s hand once again. Naomi gave Rey a wink, though the brunette didn’t acknowledge her.

“It’s okay, Love. I’ve dealt with it. We’ll close for now and open tomorrow.”

Rey shook her head.

“I’ll go clean up. It’ll be lunch soon.”

Her voice was dead.

Fighting back a tear, Charlotte watched her wife shuffle back to the bar to straighten up. “Rey,” called Fawkes, approaching her wife. “I’d like us to go out Friday night. Dinner, then a ballet. Would you like that?”

Rey’s glassy eyes met her wife’s gaze. “Sure … I guess.” Ford shrugged, finished with the chairs, she slowly ambled behind the bar.

“I’m sorry,” she said only to Charlotte.


	3. A Night at the Opera House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Rey nearly strangled a Cerberus proponent, Charlotte knew her wife needed help. As Rey was reluctant to talk to anyone, Charlotte took her lover on a date she would never forget. 
> 
> NSFW, dom/sub warnings apply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The following story began as a Mass Effect roleplay that lasted nearly five years before it abruptly ended without conclusion. Charlotte, created by myself and Rey, brought to life by A_Raven's_Flight became so beloved to us both that we couldn’t let them die. Instead of finishing the roleplay story, I decided to concentrate on the lives of these woman after the war and how they adapted to peacetime. As this story was inspired by a roleplay, some characters were created by authors other than myself.
> 
> While I've been involved in Mass Effect roleplay for nearly ten years and have a few short pieces under my belt, this is the first multipart fanfic I've written.
> 
> Finally, this story can be categorized as ME smut or porn with a plot, however, the good stuff doesn't start until chapter three. Hope you enjoy.

“The bar suffered from Rey’s incident, as I knew it would. When word got out that the bartender attacked a man, people stayed away.”

Still in the lotus position on her shrink’s sofa, Charlotte rocked herself backwards and closed her eyes.

“Do you need a break?” asked Dr. Upton.

“No, thank you.” Her eyes still closed, Char allowed a few tears to trickle down her cheeks. “Rey was devastated, but she came into work the next day. Crax and Naomi were there, but not many others. Rey was a ghost, a shell. It hurt deeply to see her like that again”

“Is she under a Doctor’s care?”

Fawkes laughed and wiped her eyes. “We’ve had that conversation a few times. It never ends well.” She paused for a moment as a memory tapped at her brain. “We did have a psychologist, Dr. Rene Hopkins. Rey talked to her all the time. They were friends, in fact.”

Char shifted her weight on the sofa and asked for a pillow. Upton tossed it her way. The scientist held the pillow in her arms.

“Rene was killed in the war. She died in the Cerberus raid on Mariposa base, to be specific. It was a fucking accident. A stray bullet hit her in the head. We don’t even know which side killed her. Rey and I were heartbroken.”

Upton retrieved a box of tissue and handed it to her patient. “I met her once via the Shadow Broker. She seemed so natural at listening and caring.”

“She was.”

“How did you handle Rey during the downturn?” asked Upton, refocusing the conversation on Charlotte.

“I’m going to be in her corner, no matter what. It’s hard work, sometimes, but that’s a marriage, isn’t it?”

* * *

_Thursday_

“Rey, I’m heading for Tanilin to pick up supplies. Do you need anything while I’m out?”

The bar was nearly empty, and Rey was cleaning the same glass for the third time. It was her fault the Nest was in trouble.

“It’s my fault,” muttered Rey.

“For the umteenth time, it’s not your fault. You were triggered. It’s like me and Batarians, like Liara and fireworks. You and Cerberus just don’t mesh.”

Fawkes placed a kiss on her wife’s cheek. “I’ll be back soon, Love.”

“Cerberus should be illegal,” grunted Ford.

“It is,” Char stated flatly. “The Cerberus logo is illegal on the Citadel and in Sirta Prime as are a great many other things. That’s why we don’t live there.”

Rey shrugged.

“I’m off, Love,” announced Fawkes.

Rey’s stomach was twisted into knots, her palms clammy. She wanted to hide, to run back home and dig under the covers of their bed.

“I’ll go.”

She tossed out the offer as quickly as possible, before fear overcame her completely.

For a moment, Fawkes was determined to decline her wife’s offer, but the fact Rey was willing to go anywhere, well, she couldn’t pass that up. She had to trust her.

“You know we’re in the red, so they may turn you away. If so, just come back. I’ll figure something out.”

* * *

Stepping off the tram, Rey barely heard the sharp hiss of hydraulics as the doors slammed shut from behind. Still in a fog from her freak out, she ambled away from the tram, only briefly stealing a glance at the bay numbers lit on screens above.

Tanilin spaceport was crowded. It was the second Thursday of the month, which meant deliveries from Council space were due, including supplies for the Nest. Normally, it was Charlotte’s job to pick up supplies. She made the orders, did the inventory, and stocked the non-alcoholic supplies, but Rey needed the distraction.

The DNA scanner above turned green. Ford shuffled through the gate, ignoring the not-so-friendly grunt of a large Krogan who passed her through.There were a hundred people on the other side. Most were there for their own parcels. A few sat scattered on the side in grey and black chairs waiting for a flight off Fehl Prime. Rey noticed none of them. As she milled through the spaceport crowd, Monday’s events replayed in her mind as they had all week long.

_The colors, I noticed first. A large strip of black, trimmed with white and accented with gold. Charlotte can’t wear anything in black, white and gold without me flinching or getting anxious. The logo. I saw that next. I never even knew what it was. An upside down C with skewed Ls on each side? Wasn’t Cerberus a three headed dog? What the hell did it mean? Fear was all it implied to me and I hated it._

_The man himself. Harlow - something? He was okay, for an older guy, very distinguished. Just like Charlotte’s uncle. That was it. That’s what set me off. The things he did to me, to her, I can’t forgive, but I should have been stronger. Stupid, stupid. Weak and stupid. Charlotte and the Nest. I’m actually happy because of them, like, a normal person. Because of that, they own me and I hate them a little for it._

As Rey neared Bay 17, she heard the muffled crackle of engine exhaust from the adjacent landing bay. Normally, Rey liked to watch the heavy transports attempt a perfect vertical landing. She stood in line with her hollow eyes staring at nothing. The ships meant nothing.

“200% markup?”

The voice of an angery Turian surged above the normal racket of the spaceport. A spark of rage brought Ford back to life.

“200% markup? On what?” Rey asked, her voice a little more alive.

The Turian clicked his mandibles and tossed an angry look toward the Batarian customs manager. “Devin says he has to mark up 200% due to possible _raider traffic_.”

“That will break us,” cried Rey.

Fear replaced her earlier numbness. Between the two, Ford preferred numb.

The Batarian shrugged his shoulders and waved for the next person in line.

“It was 100% yesterday.” Rey was desperate. She couldn’t lose the bar. She couldn’t. “My wife checks Raider Watch every day. Nothing’s been reported.”

“My sources say different, lady. Back of the line, now.”

Her fists balled as perspiration dewed upon her brow. “Sources? How would they know? How would you know? You’re not reporting something?”

Devin snarled. He shot a look of disdain at the brunette. “I’m Batarian, so I’m a raider or a slaver. Is that it? Fuck, you humans are all alike.” The officer began to pace and stew, bearing all his sharp pointed teeth. “I should toss your payload off the ship.”

The fear was gone. Anger rushed in.

“Fuck you, my wife was on Adek!”

Rey spat out the words with loaded venom. Short audible gasps emerged from the line behind her. The Turian gave her a look of pity. Rey began a march toward Devin. A slender hand emerged from the crowd and caught Ford by the collar.

Rey’s bionic arm swung, but her ‘attacker’ was gone.

“Behind you,” said the woman.

Rey growled and spun around. It was Kata. Charlotte’s best friend.

Kata dripped with style and elegance and wore a light mocha farasha dress which balanced her dark skin tone. More bohemian than Fawkes, she owned a small boutique shop not far from the Crow’s Nest.

“Are you going to choke me too?” she asked in a sarcastic tone.

Rey stumbled backwards, shook back into reality by the woman’s quip. Her eyes sunk low. Kata stretched out her hands tenderly.

The commotion garnered the attention of the foreman, a female Krogan of considerable size. She was nearly as tall as most older males and almost as wide. The Blue crested female stomped toward Rey, but Kata held up her hand.

“It’s okay.” The elegant woman smiled and slipped the krogan a credit chit. She turned back to Rey.

“Devin’s an asshole, but he’s no raider. He’s probably marking it up for himself.” She placed a gentle hand on Rey’s shoulder and gave the girl a wink.

“Hey!” Kata called over to the Krogan. “Your custom’s officer is charging extra for raider traffic. 200% markup. I’ve heard of no –”

The Krogan shot her hand up, intent on quashing Kata for the moment. She zeroed in on Devin. “There’s been no official word of raiders for today. If you know something, Devin, you’re obligated to report any sightings.” The Krogan leaned forward and waited for a response.

Devin grumbled and shrugged his shoulders. He had nothing more to say.

“In my office after your shift,” demanded the foreman. She walked off mumbling expletives.

“Devin!” Kata called out. “About that markup?”

The crowd laughed. Devin sneered, eyeing both women. Then Devin checked Rey’s manifest, and a smile widened upon his face.

“Your funds didn’t clear,” laughed the officer. “Get the hell out of here, rat.”

“We’ll pay it back!” screamed Rey.

“No credit, bitch. Scram!”

Rey knew the Nest didn’t have the money. Charlotte warned her, but she had to get the supplies. The crowd started to gather around her, all of them mumbling. They were talking about her. She knew it. The fear was back. She was back in Cerberus' hands. She had to run or strike.

“We’ll put it on my tab.” Kata grabbed the manifest and pressed in her thumbprint. “And gather my supplies while you’re at it.”

The fear was gone, replaced by shame, but also gratitude. “Thank you, Kata,” whispered Rey.

“I’ll settle up with Charlotte, later,” said Kata and turned her attention back to Devin. “Have it delivered to the Crow’s Nest in the East markets. Understood?”

“Yeah. Whatever,” said Devin, waving her off.

“No. Don’t just wave me off …” she barked. “... and if anything gets broken, it’s your arse.”

Devin spat in her direction; all four eyes focused on Ford and her friend. Angered, Rey started for the Bat, but Kata quickly took her by the arm again.

“We beat the system this time, Crow. Let’s not tempt fate.”

* * *

Kata leaned against the door frame, a small rectangular package in her hand. Charlotte didn’t notice. She poured over the bills scattered all about her desk.

“You had a package delivered to my shop?” asked the woman.

“Yes.” Fawkes extended her hand for the parcel. “It's a surprise for Rey.” She finally looked up. “Thanks for getting her — us out of that jam. I’ll get you the money soon.”

Kata placed the package in Char’s hand, offering a satisfied smirk. “Devin’s an ass. He deserved the humiliation.”

Fawkes went back to her books, cursing lightly as she tried to find a way out of the hole. “Maybe if we just served Batarian ale?”

“Batarian ale tastes like ass,” chuckled Kata.

“Who drinks it for the taste?” Char quipped.

“Fair point.”

“What about the Cerberus douche? Did you pay him off?” Kata finally asked.

“I — Yes. I’ll pay his hospital bills and add a lump sum for any mental anguish that may have occurred,” said Char, looking through the bills again.

“How much?”

“His lawyer and I agreed to 1,340,00 credits. 340,000 for the neck brace and a million for mental trauma.” Fawkes winced out the figure. She knew it was too much, but she would do anything to keep Rey out of trouble.

“Your wife is right. You’re too fucking nice,” said Kata flatly. Charlotte didn’t respond. How could she? It was true. Another truth was Rey’s mental status.

“She needs help, Char.”

“I know, but she won’t agree to see anyone. Not since — I’m scared to take her anywhere. The Alliance will use any excuse to get their hands on her, because of Aegis. I’m surprised they haven’t knocked down the door already.”

Fawkes stood from her desk, intent on defending Rey. Instead, the mirror caught her eye. Had the day added more crow’s feet under her eyes since morning? She moved to the mirror to examine herself more closely. Her hair was a mess, a mix of brown with scattered red and grey. She was old and worn.

“Jesus bloody Christ. Look at me.”

“What are you bitching about?” chimed Kata. “You’re a fucking goddess. Aphrodite come to slum with us mere mortals.”

Charlotte waved her off. “No, no. You’re beautiful. You’re gorgeous, I mean — “ she offered Kata a soft smile. “If I didn’t love my wife …”

For a moment, a lifetime of what ifs passed between them. The energy, so intense, forced Charlotte away. Kata lingered on her friend.

“God, you’re a slut.” They both cracked up in laughter. Kata hugged Char from behind. Fawkes kissed her on the cheek.

“Good luck tomorrow tonight,” said the woman, then headed for the door.

“Thanks, K,” Char replied.

Before turning back to her work, she placed a hand on the package. “I hope we pull this off.”

* * *

_Friday_

Charlotte sat by her vanity, her legs crossed, sipping a cup of hot tea with lemon. Dressed in a light peach negligee from the night prior, she watched her wife as she slept. Rey laid sideways in bed, her left leg hung over the side, and her bionic arm was tangled in the sheets again.

Out of habit, Fawkes could never bring herself to wake the woman. So many nights during the war, Rey caught sleep whenever she could, be it a quick nap or a couple of hours on the ship. There was another reason Charlotte never stirred the girl. In her deep slumber, Rey was forbidden fruit. The elder woman enjoyed sitting back and ogling her wife. It made her mind wander among other things.

A grumpy riser, Rey could be, as Fawkes once said, put out upon waking. Therefore, Aegis had the honors of extricating Rey from her sleep.

“Wake up, Sleepyhead. Time to get up, ” chimed the blue orb resting on the nightstand.

Ford’s prosthetic arm whirred to life. Grabbing a pillow, the girl tossed it at the nightstand where Aegis’ terminal was housed. As she rose, the sheets ripped, caught in the synthetic muscles of her prostheses again.

“Oops,” chuckled Rey.

“At least it wasn't my hair this time,” said Fawkes, crossing her legs again.

“Yeah,” chirped Ford, already wearing the goofy, lopsided grin Charlotte loved so much. She stood beside the bed, stretched and yawned, revealing the black, Grindwhore t-shirt she wore to bed. Rey retrieved the pillow off the floor and tossed it back on the bed. She then scratched her bum and sniffed her armpit. She needed a bath. “I’m gonna take a shower,” she muttered and ran past her wife. Charlotte reached out to catch the girl, but Ford sped up, her bare feet thumping on the hardwood floor.

The bathroom door slammed, as it always did, and soon Fawkes heard little, muffled curses while Rey fumbled in the medicine cabinet. No longer in the Alliance, it was up to Rey to care for her prosthetic arm on a daily basis. One such daily ritual was to resupply the nanites that enabled seamless connection between her, her arm and Aegis. Fortunately, the nanites could be ingested in pill form. Unfortunately, Rey hated taking pills.

“Fuck. Shit.”

Charlotte heard the bottle top fall into the sink as it plopped and rolled around the drain. A moment later, the shower curtain zipped back and hot water began to hiss.

Fawkes placed the gold rimmed tea cup on the white vanity table, then rose, in need of her own shower. She was interrupted by the door chimes. Hastily, she slipped on a light pink robe and marched to the front door.

Her blue eyes winced at the outside light when she opened the door. The early visitor was a man from Sirta Prime’s delivery chain. He was dressed sharply in white and presented a favorable smile, the SPD logo over his shirt pocket.

“Good morning. Early, isn’t it?” Char chuckled cheerfully as he handed her several packages, including Rey’s dress wrapped in black garment cover.

“Early bird gets the worm,” he chimed. She pressed her thumb on the DNA scanner and the friendly gentleman acknowledged the delivery. He gave a polite nod and was quickly back on his route.

Giddy, she placed the packages in the living room on the sofa. The dress, she hung behind the door out of sight. Rey confined herself mostly to the bedroom, kitchen, and her workshop. She would be oblivious to the packages until Fawkes presented them.

“Looks like I am committed to this now,” she said, scrutinizing the packages. All were for Rey except one small box that Char quickly opened. A small bottle of perfume with the fragrance of salted caramel and orange, she bought it specifically to wear for her wife. Rey never cared for the overtly sweet in food, scents or anything. Raised on the streets of Omega, Ford lived mostly on bland nutrient paste. She always gagged on the pungent. Perfume was no exception.

Quickly Charlotte ran to the bedroom to stow it away in her vanity drawer.

“What’s that?” asked Rey.

Charlotte flinched. She spun around to find her wife standing in front of their walk-in closet, nearly dressed for work.

“It’s just some perfume I ordered,” answered Fawkes.

Her hair still wet, Rey dragged a comb through her brown locks; she winced untangling a knot.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, Rey. Why do you ask?”

“You just seem nervous, is all and you’re not even dressed yet. Get with it, huh.” Ford winced again, combing through a knot. Char stepped over to the girl and took the comb. She gently teased the knot out of Ray’s hair.

“I could ask you the same thing. You know how to comb your own hair,” countered Fawkes.

“Yeah, well, I am nervous, and I’m not lying about it.”

Ford glanced up to her wife. Something was up, probably with the bar. They would lose it because of what she did. Rey could feel it in her bones.

“Fine,” huffed Charlotte. “I was going to save this as a surprise, but we have reservations at the Osteria. I thought it would be nice to treat you as we also have tickets to the ballet tonight.”

“Ballet?” Rey asked, more than a little confused. “That’s tonight?”

“That’s … well …” Char stammered, uncertain on how exactly to proceed. Honesty was best, she always thought, but spontaneity was key for the evening. She moved closer to Rey, and placed her porcelain hands on her wife’s waist. Ford looked up, her big, brown eyes full of questions.

Still in her negligee, Charlotte unbuttoned her wife’s blouse half way. Rey closed her eyes. She sucked in a breath as soft lips touched her skin. Fingers met to intertwine. Charlotte kissed up, finding her wife’s neck and let her tongue lightly trace Rey’s pulse. Fawkes moved upward, kissing the jawline. Ford shivered.

Reluctantly, Charlotte pulled away, but held her wife’s arms. “We’re going out to dinner, then to the ballet and finally, back here to the playroom.”

Fawkes quickly grabbed Rey by the waist again. She pulled her desperately close. They kissed hard, lips crushing against one another. Charlotte pulled away, a drop of saliva bridged between their wet lips.

“And I will be in charge. Understand?”

Rey gasped a little. She was nervous, scared even, but incredibly excited.

“Yes, ma’am. I need to … I need to --” Ford giggled and dashed into the kitchen. Charlotte headed for the showers.

* * *

Charlotte was nervous. She knew Rey wasn’t fond of dresses. For work Ford dressed down, jeans and a t-shirt on most days. For formal functions, a pantsuit or blouse and slacks were Rey’s favorites. On the bed, Fawkes laid out a knitted navy sweater dress along with accompanying undergarments and boots.

“Do you like it?” asked Charlotte. She thought Rey would roll her eyes or huff or make some smart comment. Instead, there was silence.

“Rey?”

The short brunette shifted her weight a couple of times, uncertain of what to do or say. She didn’t particularly like wearing a dress, but the idea that Charlotte would make her wear one had her aroused. It’s not like her wife was never in charge before. Fawkes often took the reins, edging her lover to the brink. She loved it, but this was something different. Not bad, but different.

“I don’t know …” mused Ford. She wrinkled her nose.

“Damn …” Charlotte bit at her nail, but she couldn’t give in. “No. You will wear this dress,” Fawkes started sternly “Do you understand?” Fawkes held a hard expression, that slowly ...

“You will, y’know …”

… fell apart.

“if you want to, that is.”

Both Rey and Charlotte burst into giggles. “You are really bad at this,” quipped the younger woman.

“I am …” said Fawkes, cupping her face in laughter. Once composed, she pulled Rey in and kissed her on the forehead. “Please wear the dress?” she pleaded, a bit like a child asking for more dessert.

“I will.” Rey whispered. She was always going to wear the dress, but needed to see how far she could push her wife.

“Gods, you are so exhausting, sometimes …” Charlotte held Rey close until all she could hear and feel was her breathing. She was calm, relaxed.

“Do you remember the first time we went to Venice?”

“Yeah. It was pretty. I liked the lights,” said Rey. She pecked at her wife’s neck.

“We went there for dinner … from California.”

Rey gently pulled away. “Yeah. Dinner, among other things,” she smirked.

“It can be like that all the time, if you want.”

“I know,” said Rey. She kissed Charlotte on the cheek and walked over to the bed. She fumbled with the dress and stockings. An interlude to gather her thoughts. “I need an anchor … no …” Ford shook her head.

“You are my anchor, and I cannot, under any circumstances, lose you. We need a safe harbor. I need a place where I can protect you!”

“Protect me from what, Rey? The war is over. It’s been over for three years.”

“Is it?” Rey spat. “Some guy just walks into our bar with a Cerberus shirt on, like they were some fucking football team!”

Charlotte closed her eyes for a moment. She hated Cerberus too, but time had passed and most of the galaxy thought they died out a century ago. This wasn’t about politics. This was about what her uncle did to Rey and to her. Fawkes still hated Tiffany just a little for denying her the kill.

“I paid him off.”

“What? You did what?” Rey’s nails bit into her palms.

Ford wished she was more surprised, but money was Charlotte’s way of fixing things.

“He could have sued the Nest, Rey. Then we really would lose everything.” Char rubbed her eyes and stepped into the closet. She hasty flipped through her dresses. “I know, I should have discussed it with you, but I just wanted it over. Can you understand?”

For Rey, credits were just a bandaid, especially in this case. The Cerberus douche would come back for more and Char would give in. Rey knew it as fact. Nothing would be fixed until the douche was out of their lives.

“Yeah. I get it,” said Rey. It was partly her fault. Long ago, Ford had delegated the financial decisions to her wife and Aegis. Maybe that was a mistake, but she wasn’t a child either. It was time Fawkes stopped treating her like one, but she didn’t want to fight.

“Let’s get dressed, Doc.”

She smiled at Charlotte as a temporary truce. Fawkes couldn’t resist that goofy grin and pulled her wife into a final kiss before the evening started.

* * *

After she changed, Charlotte spritzed a mist of perfume on her neck, inside the elbow, and behind her knee. Rey didn’t like heavy scents, so Fawkes always kept it light. She stepped out of the closet in a burgundy outfit - coat, corset, skirt with black choker ribbon and six inch stilettos. Her hair was wrapped in a loose ponytail.

Rey wore bangs in her chestnut hair, which her wife loved. Sporting a navy sweater dress and shin high boots, she let out a loud wolf whistle.

“I could say the same,” mewed Charlotte and took Ford by the hand.

Sniffing the air, Rey waved a hand in front of her face and coughed. “Just kidding,” she said. “I like it. Not too sweet.”

Char picked up her purse and the package Kata had delivered earlier. “What’s that?” Rey quickly asked.

“It’s a surprise for later,” replied Fawkes.

“You know I don’t like surprises,” scoffed Rey. She grabbed at the parcel, but Char was too fast.

“You’ll like this one. I promise.”

Dr. Fawkes opened the door of her car and Rey stepped into the backseat. Char joined her and programmed the route. “We should get there within the hour,” she said. The two cuddled in the back while the car flew across the plains.

* * *

Curious as to what her wife would do, Rey slid her hand onto Charlotte’s knee. She traced the tibia with her finger, and felt the silky texture of her stocking. Gently, Fawkes took hold of Rey’s hand and pushed it away. “No,” she said with the wink of a smile. Ford began to speak up, but Char placed a finger to the woman’s lips.

“Shhhh.”

She was in character now, a tiny mask of confidence from a life of refined discipline. “Enjoy the ride, Love.” Char nestled in, and sprinkled kisses along her Lover’s neck, and slipped a hand over her knee.

The perfume was getting to her. It was savory, salty caramel with oranges and something else, something she couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t a scent, exactly, but a lure. Rey closed her eyes while Char teased at her neck. Fingers crawled along the woman’s leg. Rey let out a soft noise. Charlotte looked down. She could see Rey’s nipples protrude through her dress, and bit along the soft flesh of her neck. She raised the hem of her wife’s dress and felt the warmth of her inner thighs. Char’s fingers spidered upwards; Rey bit her lower lip. Another tiny moan slipped through Ford’s lips. Rey’s eyes closed tight as her head arched backward. Charlotte’s fingers were so close. Then the biotics began.

It started as a tingle, inching up Rey’s thigh. The purplish hue illuminated the backseat and its passengers. Rey sucked in a breath. Char’s biotics spread into a mist that tickled her lover’s pussy. Rey gasped and tried to buck. She needed friction. Char eased off. Rey growled. Char pulled away.

A sheen of sweat on her chest, Ford struggled to catch her breath.

“Fuck …”

Now horny as hell, Rey placed her hand back on her wife’s knee. Char brushed the hand away … again.

“No.” Fawkes’ tone was soft, but firm.

Rey huffed like a brat. She wasn’t on the edge, but she was close and not just because of Char’s talents. The perfume wouldn’t leave her alone. It was nice, but nothing to get so worked up about and yet, there she was. She eyed the package again. What was it? A vibrator? No, Char had her biotics and Rey had her hand. There was no need. Maybe it was just some jewelry or something. Fawkes could be overly girlie at times. Whatever was going on, Ford found it difficult to ease back down. Char was definitely up to something.

“This is torture,” spat Rey.

“Exactly,’ replied Charlotte and leaned in to her wife. Her slender white fingers guided Rey’s face toward her. “Love, it’s going to get a lot worse as the night goes on. We can keep going or turn back.” Char raised the hem of her wife’s skirt. Rey squirmed as she whimpered. “If we go home, we’ll make love and fall asleep in one another's arms.”

Rey nodded, her eyes focused on Charlotte’s thighs.

“If we proceed …” Fawkes raised her hemline further and delicately guided Rey into a deep kiss. One hand cupped her breasts. Biotics tickled Rey’s nipples; her cheeks blushed. As they kissed, Char pushed her fingers against the woman’s sex. Rey held a breath. For a full minute, Fawkes rubbed her. Ford’s look of wanting was intoxicating. Char never wanted to fuck Rey so bad in all her life. Not yet, she thought and pulled away.

“No …” Rey moaned.

Charlotte quickly pinched Rey’s nipple. “Don’t say no to me.” Ford froze as Char stayed firm and in character. The young woman nodded slowly.

“Yes, ma’am,” mewed Rey.

“What’s your decision then? Go back or continue?”

“Con-continue.” Rey’s voice shook. She was sure, but also a little terrified. This was new territory for both of them.

“Lie back and raise your dress.” Char’s tone was firm, but sensual. Rey did as ordered. Back to the door, she slid her dress upward. Rey’s face flushed. She was embarrassed so easily. Char moved in with a glowing smile, and lowered herself between her lover’s legs. Rey’s breath quickened. Charlotte trailed deep kisses between her thighs. Rey gasped, her back arched, and her eyes fluttered closed.

“I love you,” whispered Charlotte.

* * *

The de facto capital of Fehl Prime, Sirta Prime, represented itself as the new Noveria. It may have been a false advertisement, but the city itself was a corporate Shangri-La. Designed 26 years ago, Sirta Prime was originally conceived as an urban forest with modest to high-end housing. It evolved into a haven for some of the galaxy’s most affluent.

Rey hated it.

“Welcome to Sirta Prime,” announced the asari VI. “Is there anything I can help you with today?”

“No thank you,” replied Charlotte. “We’re good.”

Much like Avina from the Citadel, the VI was a vibrant, translucent sex doll that spat out information catered for the tourists.

“Please enjoy your stay and speak to me regarding all public and private restrictions. Sirta Prime. Your health, you comfort, your life,” chimed the VI.

“Fuck off,” sneered Rey.

“Certain language is prohibited in public arenas. This will be your first warning. Enjoy your stay,” spoke the VI in the same cheerful tone as before.

Fawkes quickened her pace, hoping to outrun the accusations of a holographic tattletale. Her efforts were moot, however. All of Sirta Prime was monitored. She was lucky the contests of her package were not considered illegal.

Walking down the glittering streets among a forest of steel and glass, Rey and Char were accosted by personalized advertisements. The couple were used to the kiosks on the Citadel calling them by name, but when a drone scanned them to determine dress and shoe size, Rey intervened.

“Aegis, kill these things,” she scowled.

“I will try, but if we are caught --”

Char stopped the AI. “Upgrade our evening to VIP. ”

“Done. That will stop the adverts and lower surveillance by 10%”

“Thank you, Aegis,” replied Char.

Rey hated to admit it, but sometimes she loved being rich. Money did not buy happiness. The old saying was true and Ford would swear on it, but money was a good fly swatter.

As the couple neared the Osteria, the doorman pointed to Charlotte’s package. She stopped and allowed him to scan it. He shook his head. Fawkes nodded and placed a chit in his hand while she whispered into his ear. A smile exploded upon the doorman’s face as he welcomed the couple inside.

“What did you say to him,” Rey queried.

“I told him not to spend it all in one place.”

Ford didn’t want to know how much her wife bribed the man or if she would have to continue through the night. Her fears were partially quashed when they were both escorted to a private dining room.

The restaurant was decorated in warm and cool greys, neutral colors designed to highlight the dishes. Plain white tablecloths were adorned with modest table settings. It was surprisingly unpretentious.

Three waiters entered the room to seat the couple. Char placed her purse and the package on the floor for the time being. The head waiter handed each woman a menu and wine list. The second waiter filled their glasses with ice water. Charlotte pushed them aside.

“We’ll have the taster's menu, please.”

The waiter nodded politely and scoffed up the menus. Before he could leave, Char placed a chit in his hand too. After a short exchange, the waiter smiled handsomely and left.

“Why are you bribing everyone?” asked Rey. She was not only concerned, but a bit teed off at her wife’s extravagances.

“Normally, the taster's menu is presented in courses. I asked him to bring everything at once, then leave us alone.”

“Oh.” The news prompted a smile from Rey. She was happy they wouldn’t be disturbed at least. After Charlotte edged her for nearly an hour, Rey was still feeling the need. Flushed from her face down, she shifted in her chair, both embarrassed and uncomfortable from her wetness. Normally shy, Rey almost wished Char would take her on the table, spread her legs and tongue her to orgasm.

“Something wrong?” Charlotte teased.

“I’m just going to sit here and think about how horribly you’re going to suffer when it’s my turn,” Rey smirked.

Charlotte blushed and giggled. “Why do you think I’m doing this?”

“I knew it,” Rey said, rolling her eyes with a hint of a smile.

Char took a sip of her water and leaned back. Rey dipped her finger into her water and fished out a couple of ice cubes. She tossed them into her mouth and crunched loudly. Char adored her wife’s terrible table manners and followed suit with the ice. Fawkes crunched loudly, prompting Rey to laugh.

The door opened wide as four waiters brought in 24 plates, two small portions of nearly everything in the menu. Rey’s eyes went wide as the white and black plates were placed in front of her.

“That’s a lot of food,” she said.

One of the waiters laughed.

Charlotte examined the dishes and satisfied, she gave the men a favorable nod.

“Call if you need anything,” said the head waiter.

“I will.”

Once the door closed, Charlotte stood from her chair and approached Rey. “Close your eyes,” said the older woman. Ford cocked her head. “If you deprive yourself of sight, then your other senses have to compensate. Without visual cues, you’ll experience the food as smell, taste and texture alone.”

Rey closed her eyes. She understood the concept, though not the why, but she trusted Charlotte. The elder woman moved a chair to the door, blocking the entrance. She was adamant about the two of them being alone. Sitting down, Char then sat beside her wife, giving her a kiss before they started.

Fawkes began with a hard crust Italian bread, which she cracked and swirled in olive oil. She brought it to Rey’s lips. Olive oil dripped onto the tablecloth. Rey opened wide, allowing Char to rest the bread on her tongue. Once she had a hold of the bread in her mouth, she bit off a piece. Fawks fed her the rest.

“How was that?”

Rey nodded eagerly. “Good. It was good.”

Next, Ford smelled something smoky underneath her nose. She bit into it and immediately tasted the smoked salmon on toast. “I like this a lot,” she said. Ford enjoyed the light smoky flavor mixed with the firm texture of the fish. The toast was light and crunchy. The amuse-bouche was fig and walnut. Char fed Rey the bite sized morsel, knowing the likely outcome. Rey winced at the texture and sweetness of the fig, but enjoyed the walnut.

“Here,” said Char as she brought a glass of wine to Ford’s lips. The wine was dry and light, which Rey liked. The next course, a roasted garlic and potato soup, Rey enjoyed very much. She liked soups and, as with most dishes of the course, it wasn’t too heavy. Char had to spoon feed her the whole bowl. She wiped off the excess from Rey’s chin, licking it off her own finger. Char then moved an appetizer in front of Ford. The young woman could smell something salty and sour and wrinkled her nose.

“Black olives with goat cheese,” announced Charlotte.

“Pass,” said Rey.

The salad was mixed greens with spinach and arugula. Ford let the fork pass over her lips. She bit down and winced. “It’s sharp,” Ford said, still chewing. As she waited for the next dish Rey heard china moving around, and silverware clinking on plates. Another dish was slid in front of her. Rey sniffed the air, but all she could smell was a light buttery scent. Char brought a filet of sole to the woman’s lips. Rey let the fish slide onto her tongue. She nodded. The fish was light in taste and firm in texture. The buttery taste was a little much for Rey, but she enjoyed it nonetheless.

Char twirled the fettuccine and chicken around her fork and brought it to Rey’s lips. “Open wide,” instructed Fawkes. “This is so weird,” said Ford. Raised on Omega, Rey’s pallet was bland. She sustained herself mostly on nutrient paste, dining on proteins and vegetables on rare occasions. So, the idea of eating for pleasure often eluded the girl. This was another experience entirely, though not an unpleasant one.

The lemon sorbet was easily Rey’s favorite. She made a yummy sound as the iced fruit slid down her throat. Though not partial to sweets, the palate cleanser contained little sugar and even less lemon taste. “It reminds me of an iced nutrient we used to have on Omega,” said Rey. It was the closest thing to a dessert that Ford liked.

Metal ground against china as Charlotte cut a piece of lamb and fed it to Rey. At first she thought it was beef, but it was too tender. Immediately, that subtle earthy taste rose in her mouth and she knew it was lamb. Charlotte would make it on occasion. There was something else, though, a sweetness that wasn’t sweet, but more floral and savory. Rey couldn’t place it.

“It's a grilled saffron rack of lamb,” said Char as she raised another bit for Rey. The girl shook her head, eyes still shut.

Next, Fawkes handed Rey something fragile and a little warm. There was only a hint of oil. She bit into the light treat. It was salty, crunchy and cheesy. “This your cheese course,” explained Fawkes. Rey shrugged. “It aids in digestion. So some suggest, but it does prepare the palette for a good dessert.” Again, Rey shrugged. She didn’t understand why cheese would be presented as its own thing, but it tasted good.

“We’re almost done,” announced Charlotte.

Rey patted her stomach. “Good. I’m … *burp* … almost stuffed.” They both chuckled.

Ford could smell the sweet before the fork reached her lips. She shook her head. “No?” asked Fawkes. Rey shrugged and opened her mouth. Char placed the honey roasted pear on her tongue. Rey winced.

“Too sweet,’ she said, spitting the pear into a napkin.

“I thought as much,” replied Charlotte. The elder woman rose from the table, but insisted Rey keep her eyes closed. The young woman heard her lover retrieve the mysterious package. Rey’s senses were alerted. Would she finally discover the parcel’s contents? As she heard the package unravel, Rey shifted in her seat, both excited and nervous. Her eyes still closed, she waited patiently for Char to reveal the surprise. Upon opening the box, Rey immediately detected chocolate.

“Dark chocolates for the mignardise,” said Charlotte, “a small bite of something sweet to end the meal.”

“Just chocolates?” asked Rey.

“No,” replied Fawkes. “Not just chocolates.” As with any dom/sub relationship, communication was key. In this case, it was vital. “You see, this chocolate has been enhanced. All the little compounds that increase our love of chocolate have been increased by slightly more than a half. An old friend of mine, who is into molecular gastronomy, made them. So, we have an increased amount of theobromine, a stimulant like caffeine that increases blood flow. It will boost your energy levels. Tryptophan, an amino acid that helps the brain make serotonin, increasing the feeling of happiness. Phenylethylalanine releases dopamine and increases pleasure. Anandamide, another neurotransmitter that activates pleasure in your brain.”

Rey nodded slowly, not entirely certain what all that meant. It sounded good, but without more information, she couldn’t make a decision. Before she could ask, Charlotte caught Rey’s confusion and elaborated.

“You’ll feel a little flushed, maybe even a little more upbeat or hyper. That feeling of pleasure and love will increase, much like it did in the car. There is some dispute over if chocolate does anything to the brain, but I know you will feel something.”

Rey opened her mouth. Char placed the chocolate on the girl’s flattened tongue. “Let it melt in your mouth.”

The chocolate sat on Rey’s tongue. Full of bitter and a hint of sweet, the soft, creamy kiss began to melt. She felt the flush coupled with a slight rush. Was it really the chocolate or something else? No. There was something else. Rey felt Charlotte’s foot ride up her leg from under the table. With a full belly, Char’s perfume and her wife’s ever constant electricity, Rey felt something for certain.

The last of the chocolate gone, Char instructed Rey to finally open her eyes. The girl winced in the dim lighting and rubbed her eyes. After a stretch and a yawn, she laughed at the number of scattered dishes. “We ate that much?” she asked.

“We did.”

From under the table, Fawkes trailed her foot along Rey’s leg again. Up and down, all the way to the hem of her dress. Charlotte smiled happily while Rey giggled from the sensation. Of course, Ford could not give up the opportunity, even if she was the sub that evening. Quickly, she grabbed Charlotte’s leg and tickled her sole. Fawkes shrieked and pulled away. Rey smirked, satisfied that she had some modicum of revenge. Suddenly, the door rattled loudly. Char shot up and removed the chair from underneath the door handle.

“Are you alright?” asked the head waiter.

Rey struggled to contain a fit of giggles while Charlotte, blushing heavily, assured the man everything was fine. “If you’d bring the check, I think we are ready.”

Char slipped on her shoe and grabbed her purse, making sure to pick up the packaged chocolates. After she paid the check, she and Rey departed. The ballet was in a couple of hours.

* * *

A short tram ride later, Rey and Charlotte fell into a nearby hotel room. Char washed her face and neck in the bath while Rey laid herself on the bed. With a toothy grin, Rey stretched out her hand, which Charlotte took in her own. She kissed the tips of each finger, allowing her tongue to linger. Ford moaned wistfully. Rey’s toothy smile turned into a wicked grin and pulled her wife into the bed.

“Fuck me,” she whispered.

“Not yet, Rey.” Fawkes stood from the bed and grabbed her purse. “Do you remember how I said it was going to get worse?” Char slid her hand inside the purse and fumbled around for something.

Rey nodded.

Two small silver balls attached by a string emerged from Charlotte's purse. Rey eyed the spheres intently as she knew their purpose. She gulped audibly.

Inside the washroom, Char turned on the hot water. The balls in hand, she lathered them with soap and warm water, listening to the clink each one made upon contact with the other. After patting them down with a towel to dry, the 39-year-old pulled out a small bottle of warm lube from her purse. Rey watched her wife intently, unsure what all this had to do with the ballet.

“Lift up your dress and slide down your knickers, please.”

Rey did as asked while Charlotte sat next to her on the bed. She lubed the Ben Wa balls well enough that Ford would have no discomfort and then parted her wife’s legs.

Fawkes kissed her wife on the cheek. “Do you want to proceed?”

Ford nodded.

“You will feel some pressure,” warned Fawkes.

Rey bit down on her bottom lip.

Deftly, Charlotte slowly slid the first ball inside Rey’s vagnia. The girl squirmed a little while Char watched for any signs of outward discomfort. After the second ball was slid inside gently, Fawkes made sure the string hung out of her vagina for easy removal.

“How do you feel? Comfortable?”

“Yeah,” replied Rey. She wiggled a little and seemed alright, but not overly impressed. Char stepped away from the bed and made a come hither motion. Rey pulled up her panties and pulled down her dress. She smirked and climbed out of bed, feeling the first sensation. However, as she walked across the room, Rey thought she was going to orgasm.

“Fuck …”

Char chuckled and moved further away.

Rey growled, but did as asked. The balls rubbed together inside her, filling her, edging her. Charlotte held her wife in her arms.

“I love you so much.”

Rey murmured something back of equal sentiment.

“Will you please fuck me?” asked Rey as she giggled at her own need.

“No,” replied Fawkes. She tucked Rey under her arm and the couple made their way to the M'kiara Opera House.

* * *

Designed by Isavais M'kiara, noted asari architect, Sirta Prime’s only opera house resembled the rolling hills of the plains. Curls and curves of steel encompassed thick latticed glass to emulate the structure’s natural surroundings. The lobby and theater, built of ash wood, evoked the interior of a musical instrument.

Rey groaned as she and Charlotte ascended the gigantic granite steps of the M'kiara. The ben wa balls moved with each step, rolling around inside her. The feeling of fullness, the sudden arousal when they rubbed against her g-spot, and the near constant edging were about to drive the poor girl mad.

Worse was having to navigate the hoi polloi. Ford could feel their eyes staring at her. She didn’t fit in and they knew it. She caught a few men eyeing her and Charlotte. Rey sneered until they looked away. Of course, Charlotte was oblivious to it all. It was her territory, and she escorted Rey to her seat like she was the Queen of Egypt. Just one of the many reasons Rey loved her wife.

After the two seated, Rey sighed in relief. She could still feel the balls inside her, but had enough stamina to endure any remaining arousal. So long as she didn’t move.

In a private box, Charlotte made sure they would not be disturbed and tipped the usher a chit. Ford rolled her eyes as her wife sat down.

“How much this time?”

“I gave him the keys to your ship,” chuckled Char.

Rey flipped her off, exposing a confident smile. The woman she loved would never do such a thing. Ford’s ship was second only to Charlotte herself.

Stealing a quick kiss beforehand, Fawkes flipped through the program, but set it aside for Rey in case she was interested.

“I should know this play by heart,” began Charlotte. “I was Odette at the Royal production when I was a teenager.”

It was sometimes easy to forget Charlotte originated from privilege. The woman she knew was so down to earth in many ways and in combat, she could be a monster. The same went for Rey. An orphan from Omega, she was sharp and resourceful and one of the best engineers in the galaxy.

“I hope I don’t snore too loud,” giggled Ford. “I mean, it all looks pretty and everything and I know dancing’s hard work, but … you know me.”

Char let a hint of a smile find her lips, but remained silent.

Rey sank into her chair and propped her boots up on the balcony. She knew Swan Lake existed as a ballet, but nothing beyond that, so to pass the time, she flipped through the program.

“Tchaikovsky … Tchaikovsky.” She rolled the name on her tongue a couple of times, but didn’t think much else of it.

“The ballet flopped when it first opened as the production was so bland, though many named the choreography as the real culprit. However, years later --”

Rey made snoring noises to prank her wife. Fawkes shook her head, yanking back the program.

The opening music was lively and airy and soon, much to her astonishment, Rey was moving her foot to the Intrada, introduction. She watched Charlotte dance a few times and could relate on that level, however her type of music was headbanging rather than toe tapping. Rey yawned and fidgeted, which activated the spheres inside her. She moaned softly. No longer on the edge she could enjoy the subtle arousal.

With another look at the program Ford noted the man front and center was a Prince. He was having a party of some kind, but Rey wasn’t good at determining dance. She could tell they were celebrating something, probably the guy’s birthday.

Part way through the Intrada, Ford felt a hand move up her thigh. She looked down to see Charlotte’s fingers tickle at the hem of her dress while enjoying the dancers. As the tempo increased, so did Char’s fingers, until they too were dancing on her inner thighs, in time with the music.

“This is why you wanted me to come?” spat Rey. She wasn't mad, but the frustration was becoming annoying.

“It is …” Char turned to her wife and pressed a finger to her own lips. “Shhhh.”

Ford sank further into her chair as Char continued to tease her thigh. Of course, it made her squirm, which caused the ben wa balls to juggle. Soon, she was balling her fists.

“How long is this thing?” asked Rey.

“About two hours,” answered Fawkes.

As the music lulled, Charlotte drew large sweeping circles upon Rey’s thigh, which was far more sensual. Mercifully, Fawkes did stop on occasion to allow Rey a rest. However, Char’s true intent was to keep Rey in suspense. She did not want her wife to become desensitized. As Act One came to a close, Char increased her circular motions, sliding up her dress and edging closer to Rey’s sex.

Once act two began Rey was panting. She watched the dancers depart, leaving the single male Ballerino alone, but she could no longer keep up with the plot. All she knew was the music turned somber and Charlotte’s fingers matched to the tempo again, slow, almost painful. Then the lone man departed and the music slowed to something sinister. Char teased Rey’s flesh in time with the music. A bold stroke which neared her pussy, followed by a delicate tickle. Ford was struggling, her legs kicking and shifting. The spheres inside her never stopped their torment. Midway through the second scene, Ford was biting into her knuckle.

Charlotte chuckled lightly at Rey’s predicament, but pulled away for the Dance of the Swans. She gave her a breather for roughly ten minutes. As the final of act two began, where the Prince and the Odette met, Charlotte slid her hand up Rey’s dress and rubbed her sex gently to the melody. Ford whimpered.

Act three began with a costume ball, Rey was sweating, but Char pulled back again. Rey was left alone through most of the act and watched, still unable to get much out of the actual ballet. Fortunately, Fawkes leaned over and explained what was going on.

“Prince Siegfried has to pick a consort, but he’s in love with Odette, the swan, who is not a swan any longer. Now, the evil wizard has brought his daughter, Odile, who looks suspiciously like Odette, to the ball. Siegfried, thinking he’s found the love of his life, declares to marry Odile, thinking she is Odette. Of course, he finds out about his mistake and is heartbroken.”

Rey was dumbfounded. Nearly all thoughts of the edging, gone. She couldn’t believe Swan Lake, the most famous ballet ever, so famous that even she'd heard of it, was the piece of convoluted trash her wife just described.

“That is … this is the most fucked up thing I’ve ever heard. Who the fuck wrote this shite?” exclaimed Rey.

Fawkes took her lover’s hand, placing a kiss upon her knuckle. “Just enjoy the music, Love.”

With act three concluded, Rey gained back some sense of mind. Char only lightly teased her though the various dances. Act four began with much softer music where Char only held her wife’s hand. Rey even seemed to like it. The music was breathtaking as were the ballerinas. The young brunette could picture them as swans swimming on the lake, which made her smile. She got it. It wasn’t her thing, but she got it.

Charlotte moved closer. Her hand edged closer to the girl’s thigh again. The sensual rhythm increased her arousal as the Prince and the swan danced to the softest music Rey had ever heard. As the tempo intensified, Rey squirmed, igniting the spheres inside her again. Ford took a hold of the armchair, determined to ride it through without a sound, but then, the bad guy showed up. A voice whispered into her ear.

“Hold on.”

An alabaster hand snaked up Rey’s leg. Warm fingers yanked down her knickers. On stage, Odette fell to the floor. Three fingers pushed up into Rey’s sex. The Prince and the wizard fought. Charlotte thrust two fingers upward into the spheres. Another finger rubbed Rey’s spot. The wizard fell, squirming on the stage to his death. Rey winced, biting her bottom lip. The silver spheres tumbled inside her. Char’s thumb found the clit. Rey drew a sharp breath. The Prince and the swan danced together. She was so close, so close. The music crescendoed. Rey readied herself. She was on the edge, the very edge. Rey screamed and …

Nothing.

Charlotte licked her fingers as the audience applauded. A wicked smile curled upon her lips.

Rey could have strangled her. “Take me home and if you don’t fuck me on the way back, you are going to be so fucking sorry …”

With her own elegant flair, Fawkes leaned into Rey. “I’ll fuck you when I’m good and ready, so bring it.” Both women eye each other with wicked intent.

“My revenge will be legendary,” said Ford, nearly seething.

“I’m looking forward to it,” replied Charlotte. She rose to her feet and offered Rey a hand. The girl wasn’t really mad. She was not in the best mood, but she was still talking and joking.

Ford stood up, a little wobbly, but took Fawkes’ hand. Both hot and sweaty, herded themselves through the crowd. Every so often Char would watch Rey as she struggled with the spheres. They edged her all the way back to the car.

* * *

“God-fucking-dammit! Will you fucking FUCK me!”

“No.”

Rey closed her eyes and growled like a dog. Charlotte hummed Dance of the Swans as she fastened her seat belt on the driver’s side.

“It won’t be long, Love.”

Rey mumbled something obscene while she kicked off her boots. Her dress was hot and that came off next.

“Ooo la la,” said Fawkes with a wink to the back. “I might just have to put this thing on auto pilot.”

“Why are you chauffeuring me home? Get back here.”

“No. I need to conserve my energy for later. You don’t want this old lady to fag out on you.”

“You’re not old, Charlotte. Now, get back here!”

“I’ll be 40 in a few months.” Charlotte spoke the words softly, afraid they might bestow an ancient curse upon her. She was once called beautiful by nearly everyone she met. Men and women both turned their heads when she entered a room. The looks and stares, most of which she despised, were less frequent, and heads didn’t turn much any more.

“Get the fuck back here!” Rey beat the seat next to her until Fawkes relented. The tall brunette programmed a route home and crawled into the back.

“I’m here. Are you happy?”

Rey smirked and started to giggle. “I own you.”

Char dropped her head into her hands. “I suppose you do.” She swung an arm around Rey and pulled her close. They kissed and fondled one another; Char was still mostly in charge. She hungered for the young woman and delivered light touches upon Rey’s flesh designed to entice. Soft kisses, nibbles and love bites were Fawkes’ weapons of choice. Rey squirmed, aching out a moan.

“I need to cum,” whimpered Rey.

“I know,” Char whispered back. “When we get home, Love.”

Charlotte slowed down, much to Rey’s dismay, but that was the plan. She glanced at the time. They had 20 minutes until the car reached the house. With an expert hand, Fawkes slid her fingers behind Rey’s back to unsnap her bra. One twist of her fingers and the garment toppled. Rey let the straps fall from her shoulders. Char eyed the girl’s breasts then laid her down. Deft fingers teased the mounds of flesh, squeezing and cupping tenderly. Char’s lips lowered to the nipple and sucked the bud hard. Rey arched and groaned. The balls inside her moved, exciting her walls. Fawkes smiled and took the other nipple in her mouth. She suckled softly.

* * *

After inflicting another 10 minutes of taunting upon her wife, Charlotte wrapped her burgundy coat around Rey and carried her inside their adobe home. Ford slipped from her lover’s arms and into a waiting wing back chair, where she promptly tore off her stockings.

“Whew … My legs are free now,” Rey said loudly.

“Awww …” Char bemoaned.

“You and your lingerie fetsih.” Ford teased.

Char smirked as she offered the girl another chocolate. “You and your Japanese school girl fetish.”

Rey stuck out her tongue and jumped to her feet. She took the chocolate and bit into it, then grabbed a bottle of tequila from the wetbar. Fawkes rolled her eyes and patted the girl on her bum.

Dressed only in a pair of knickers, Rey raced to the playroom. The lover’s retreat was a classic red room with a round, laced canopy bed in its center. The bed itself was large and soft, but sturdy. Tiny white lights branched around the canopy and reflected on the ceiling. Rey loved it. The lights reminded her of Venice. The rest of the room was tastefully decorated, but nothing stood out as odd. That was Charlotte’s touch. Rey thought it was ridiculous to hide everything.

The ben wa balls still working inside her Rey groaned as she waited on her lover. Her hands gravitated toward her nethers, but she stopped herself. She could take it. After a swing of tequila, she set the bottle on a nearby nightstand and waited.

When the door opened, Ford couldn’t help but laugh. There stood Charlotte, dressed in a short plaid shirt, (the Ferguson tartan), white stockings, black heels and a white blouse.

“It’s not really Japanese school girl, but it’s close enough, right?”

“I like it,” Rey said as she blushed.

Char sauntered toward the bed. “Glad you like it,” she mused softly and eyed Rey with malicious intent. “Lie down and spread your legs.”

This was it, thought Rey and did as instructed. Her head propped on a pillow, her legs slightly bent and spread, she readied herself for the final. Charlotte crawled toward her like a cat, her claws dug into the woman’s panties and pulled them down. Fawkes moved in, her hot tongue lashed at Ford’s mound. Rey shivered.

“Are you ready?” Char whispered.

The girl nodded quickly.

“Aegis. Dance of the Swans on repeat, please.”

The AI cued up the piece, enabling the loop.

Charlotte slowly slid her fingers into Rey’s slick pink. The girl gasped. Char moved in tandem with the music, slowly, tenderly. Rey clenched.

“Relax.” Charlotte’s soft voice caressed Rey’s mind. It was her anchor, her drug. She took a deep breath and let it out. “Good,” said Char. She kissed Rey deeply, letting her fingers explore Rey’s folds. As the soft melody peaked upward, Char’s fingers exploded in speed, fucking her, rubbing her spot. Rey clenched her eyes tightly.

Fawkes pulled out and licked her fingers. Rey growled. The song completed, the two lied side by side.

“My poor darling …” Char allowed her fingers to spider toward Rey’s clit. The girl smiled. This had to be it. Char touched the clit lightly, curling the bud with Rey’s own wetness. Ford moaned loudly. She had to cum. She would die if she didn’t explode.

Charlotte toyed with the girl’s clit over and over again. For 15 minutes, she lightly teased the girl’s clit, exciting every nerve. Rey was grinding, desperate for more friction. The spheres inside her toppled and spun. Joy turned to agony. Pleasure was her enemy. Her body, hot and flushed, arched until it hurt. She had to cum. She had to cum, now.

“Please …”

“I love you, Rey.”

She was rapture, a state Rey could not fully comprehend. Pleasure thundered through her body and mind in a way she had never experienced. The climax, similar to those she had in the past, was much more powerful and would not stop. Her body convulsed and shook. It was a full minute before she realized Charlottes was holding her, kissing her. She looked into her lover’s eyes. She tried to speak, but she was still cumming. The high was like the chocolate on her tongue, she oozed into a melted puddle. Charlotte held her tenderly planting gentle kisses on her face.

When the daze lifted, Rey, out of breath, felt tears involuntarily flowing down her cheeks. She didn’t cry. Not her, but she couldn’t stop. Char kissed her cheeks dry.

“Holy fuck …” Giddy, Rey could only gaze upon her wife as a goddess. “You are … so fucking amazing.” Then it dawned. The perfume. The chocolate. The meal. The music. The taunting. The edging. The entire evening was a strategy for this one moment.

“How long, Aegis?” asked Dr. Fawkes.

“Four minutes and 27 seconds.”

“Damn. I was going for five minutes,” quipped Char.

Ford chuckled. She was married to a scientist after all. Still in a daze one thing perplexed her. “What’s in the perfume?”

Char propped herself next to Rey. “It’s not very romantic.”

“What?” demanded Rey.

“My pheromones, which you would naturally be attracted to. Like the chocolate, I got a chemist friend to make it for me. For the pheromones, I had to give him my sweat.”

“Oh.” Rey shook her head. “It’s not very romantic.”

Now came the crash. The after effects of such a powerful climax could only produce the opposite. Reality came rushing back. The bar. The Cerberus guy. Her outburst.

“I’m sorry,” Rey winced.

“It’s fine, Love. We’ll get through it.” Fawkes took her wife by the hand and steered herself between Rey’s legs again.

“I love you, Doc.”

Char smiled tenderly and began to lick.


End file.
